


It Takes Three

by ClarenceJ



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Dwarf Courting, F/M, Fluff, Insecurity, Love, Love Confessions, Multi, Post-Battle of Five Armies, Romance, shy reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-23 00:36:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17673074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClarenceJ/pseuds/ClarenceJ
Summary: Brought by the imagine: Imagine being approached to join in a relationship with Thorin. . . and Dwalin.





	It Takes Three

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit or any of the characters, only my own.
> 
> Hey there! I hope you enjoy reading this imagine and leave comments and kudos. Also, if you enjoy this work you should check out some of the others that I have! (I think they're pretty good too). Thanks again to Whaleofataleteller for the great plot bunny that I adopted!  
> Enjoy!

**Plot Bunny 22:** Imagine being approached to join in a relationship with Thorin…and Dwalin. 

 

            You had been in Erebor for some time now, the entire city bustling with builders and with the caravans of dwarves that never stopped arriving. You decided to continue on with selling your baked goods that you had sold previously in the Blue Mountains except for the only difference this time is the king. He comes to your stand every few days and when he does he gives you a look as though he would rather devour you than the pastries. It makes your heart pound and a vicious blush rise to your cheeks when he gives you a knowing half smirk.

            What’s more, you’ve noticed that when you look away from King Thorin’s intimidating gaze you end up meeting another’s. Dwalin, the king’s guard, always has his eyes locked on you when his king approaches the stall. At, first you thought it was because he must be watching for a threat but then you noticed the way he was gazing at you instead of watching his assignment. He gazes at every inch of you visible, working his way up and down your body and then finally stopping at your eyes. Today is no different as the king and his guard come up to the stand. _‘The both of them?’_ you think in surprise.

            “Good mornin’ lass,” Dwalin speaks first, his voice low and rumbly. He’s far more intimidating up close with all of his scars and tattoos highly visible and with a fearsome sword hanging at his side, and all of that combined makes your hands shake and your brain go fuzzy. You steady yourself by wiping your clammy palms on your apron.

            “Good morning Mister Dwalin, King Thorin,” you squeak. You give a small curtsy to the pair of them quickly and try to calm your heart rate before asking, “The regular then?” You turn prematurely to bustle towards the muffins but a hot hand on your shoulder makes your heart skip a beat. You turn to see Thorin with a smirk on his face.

            “Is everything alright miss Y/N? You seem awfully flustered today,” he asks; the smirk still very present on his face and his pupils blown wide. “And very flushed as well,” he brushes his rough fingers against your lightly bearded cheek. Your head becomes fuzzy as you realize what an intimate gesture he’s done. _‘No one has ever touched my beard before’_ you think with a little shutter. A blush rises on your cheeks as you look back at his large hand on your shoulder and you give another shudder at its warmth. _‘Everything is perfectly fine with your hands on me’_ you want to say but your mother would have your tongue for your impropriety so you simply nod your head in silence.

            Dwalin chuckles lowly giving you goosebumps. “You got nothin’ to be nervous about with us,” he assures you but his words do little to calm your racing heart. “We got more reason to be nervous around a pretty lass like yourself,” he adds with a wink and another good-natured chuckle. A smile crawls on your face and with words of doubt hanging on your tongue about to be poured from your lips, you look into his eyes but don’t see any hint of a joke. He reads of complete sincerity and the amount of adoration, ‘ _and is that doubt?’_ , play in his eyes.

            “Thank you. That’s very kind of you to say,” you mutter shyly and turn to grab their muffins. You hand the sweets to them and put their coins into a drawer of your stand.

            “It is the truth,” Thorin tells you with a small smile of his own. The air is thick with tension as they look at you and you observe both of them. Your hands become clammy again and you feel the need to pace, but you hold their gaze and stare into those deep blues of your king’s and the deep brown of his guard’s. Their thick locks braided complexly and clasped with beautiful beads, their fine clothes, their searching eyes that takes your breath away, their lips. . .’ _NO!’_ you shout at yourself suddenly. “H-h-have a good day both of you,” you suddenly bid them with a nervous little laugh.

            This is the most they’ve ever talked to you before and this was more than enough excitement for one day. The two dwarves seem to take the hint as they leave you with a nod of their heads, letting you finally breathe out heavily and lean against the post of the stand in relief. _‘Is this what it’s really like to be noticed?’_ you wonder as you place a hand on your chest to feel the erratic beat of your heart and let out a shaky laugh to yourself. _‘He noticed me. The king noticed me.’_ You mind races as you close up the stand for the day. _‘They- he- doesn’t like me’_ you think shaking your head. _‘I’m no one’_ you tell yourself and finish packing the pastries with ease.

            The next day Dwalin comes just as you’re closing the stand, packaging up the unwanted pastries, and collecting all of the money from the day. “Hello Mister Dwalin,” you tell him and start to curtsy, out of habit, but stop when he holds his hand up.

           “Please don’t curtsey to me, my lady,” he chuckles to you with a wink but you shake your head in disagreement.

           “Please call me Y/N,” you say back to him. Dwalin smiles at that and your heart jumps.

           “That is a beautiful name lass. I’ll only honor that if you call me Dwalin. None of that formal stuff with me,” he drawls. “Which one of those is your favorite?” he motions to the leftover pastries. You look at the leftovers and bite your lip in thought, trying not to blush.

            “Well we already sold out of them but I enjoy the berry scones when we make them. They’re going to go out of season soon with the fall coming and all,” you trail off as you look at his face. He’s looking at you so intensely with all of his attention and it this time it does make you blush.

            “Well make sure that you take some for yourself before the season is up. With the work you do, it looks like you deserve it,” he winks again. He gives you a coin for a nut filled cookie so you add that to your small purse. “I hope I’ll see you again Y/N. I do enjoy my time talking with you if only I weren’t so busy. . .” he trails off looking around for a moment. Your heart jumps at the thought of him spending more time with you.

            “Thank you,” you say and he looks shocked for a moment. “I mean thank you for being so kind. I enjoy speaking with you as well,” you amend. His eyes soften and a gentle grin appears on his face at your compliment.

            “I’ll see you at another time then. Y/N,” he nods his head and gives you one last grin before heading off to do whatever the guards do, leaving you with a belly full of butterflies and thinking of the next time you’ll see him.

             The next day there is no sign of your favorite guard but are pleasantly surprised with a visit by your king. You’re packaging up an order for later and as you turn to get more parchment to wrap it, there he is making you jump in shock.

            “King Thorin you scared me,” you chuckle holding a hand over your chest. He looks at it for a moment before chuckling with you lightly. It reminds you of the way thunder sounds rolling over the hills.

            “Please call me Thorin instead,” he insists and you gape at his request. _‘Calling a king by his first name?’_ you wonder silently. _‘Mother would scold me for sure.’_

            “I-I-I couldn’t,” you start to stammer but he holds his hand up for a moment and shakes his head.

            “You can,” he tosses back and you can’t help but laugh at his little joke. “Please, I insist.” You open your mouth only to have no sound come out and as you close it you think to yourself of the strangeness of the situation. You hardly notice the smile that creeps onto your face and a light blush as you nod yes.

            “Alright then, Thorin,” you test out and he gives you another warm smile. “Um. . . what can I get for you?” you ask him, realizing that you haven’t even gotten an order from him yet.

            “What would you recommend for me?” You heart thumps heavily in your chest as you try to think of something unique enough for him to be surprised by but not unwilling to try. You mull it over, looking at your selection of pastries and know exactly what you should offer.

            “I would recommend the honey sweet rolls with blueberries,” you offer and watch his face for a reaction. He does make a little face, his brow pinching together and his eyes squinting a little, and you think that it may have been a little too over adventurous for what plain pastries he usually gets.

            “I would love to try them,” he tells you after a moment and you sigh in relief. You package up two of them and put his coins into the small counter, but when you look up he’s gazing at you again. Blue eyes clash with your own and you could dive right into his. Your eyes take a moment to flit around his face, across his strong hairline, his sharp nose, and lands on his lips with a longing that takes you by surprise. You clear your throat to snap yourself out of your latest reverie and turn back around to finish the last fold of your package and when you turn to Thorin you could swear he was a second ago smirking.

            “I hope you enjoy them,” you try to say but your voice comes out lower and rougher than you’d like. _‘All of this attention is certainly not good for my health at this rate’_ you berate yourself.

            “I’m certain I will. Thank you again for these Y/N.” You shudder at the way he says your name and you hope it passes his attention. “I appreciate the time that you give me, or well more accurately us. Dwalin and I,” he clarifies and you give him a smile.

            “Well it’s not really work when I see either one of you at the stand so I don’t mind,” you laugh a little and he nods his head. Your eyes widen as you realize what you just said but Thorin doesn’t seem phased by it. If anything he seems happy about it.

            “I have to be going but I hope to stop by again and save you from this work,” he jokes and you nod your head in agreement. As he leaves, you turn away from the passing people and slap your hand to your chest as your thoughts run wild. _‘I have to calm down about this. He likes my pastries and I’m nice to him. That’s all’_ you try to tell yourself and keep your hands, and mind, busy by going back to work.

            Over the next two weeks, their visits grow more infrequent and you start to worry a little until you get a summons from a messenger to see the king. _‘What?’_ you panic. _‘What did I do?’_ You try to wrack your brain but can’t come up with anything that you could have done to be rewarded, or punished with, a summons to see the king.

            “Right this way miss,” the messenger directs you and you don’t quite understand where you are. You vaguely know the direction of the throne room but this is different. There are tapestries streaming down the ceiling and the rugs are ornate with fine fabrics, and you realize with a start where you are: the royal wing. “Through this door please,” he directs you and all you feel is panic eating away at your stomach.

            “But what is-,” you start as you walk into the room finding the fire to be well stoked, the bed pristine, and the king waiting for you. You’re still wearing your clothes from the bakery, covered in flour, crumbs, flecks of fruit filling, and patches of cinnamon. Your mouth runs dry at the sight of him sitting on one of the fancy couches wearing a simple tunic and trousers, most likely waiting for you. Your eyes drink in the sight of him before the sense of uneasiness tugs at you again. “What is this King Thorin?” you whisper. His lips lift in a small smile before his face smooths over again like he’s trying to contain himself.

            “What happened to ‘call me Thorin’?” he chuckles but then pauses after taking in your nervous demeanor. “I," he pauses as if trying to find the right words, "I apologize if I’ve made you uncomfortable miss Y/N. I was hoping that we could talk for a little while somewhere quieter than the market. I have scones if you’d like some,” he adds and your eyes flicker over to where he motions. “I mean they are your scones. Dwalin informed me that you enjoy the berry ones so I got them for you,” Thorin says quietly, maybe a little nervously, you notice. “Of course if you want them,” he adds quickly.

            You take another cautious look around the room for the large dwarf. “Is Dwalin here?” you ask him just as quietly, afraid that the tension of the quiet room will break if you talk too loudly, and a bit afraid that this might be some type of hallucination.

            He looks you over, taking in your tense for. “He’ll be here soon,” he comforts you, knowing you must be nervous to be with him in the royal wing. “Please sit,” he offers, gesturing to one of the fine chairs next to his. You tentatively sit on the couch, but not directly next to him, as he offers you one of your scones. You smile as you feel how warm it is in your hands, realizing that he must have heated it for you.

            “What am I doing here? I don’t wish to be rude but I-,” you stop midsentence as the door starts to open revealing a sheepish looking Dwalin still wearing his guard clothes. He places his sword near the door, unclasping his weapons belt for the comfort of the conversation, and begins to take off his armor and placing it near the door.

            “I apologize for being late Y/N, Thorin,” he nods his head to you with a smile. You smile in return, feeling those butterflies start to come alive in your belly at the sight of him and the new sight of his broad chest and shoulders in such a clinging tunic. You forget about the scone as you focus on the two men.

            Thorin nods his head as well. “It’s quite alright friend,” he speaks up with a smile on his face. His smile causes you to smile as the joy is nearly infectious when it mixes with your nerves.

            You shake your head but this time in annoyance at their refusal to answer your questions. “Tell me why I’m here right now or I-I-I’ll leave.” Well, that worked. They snap their heads towards you so quickly you nearly regret the drastic choice. After all, it’s obvious that they’ve tried to make you comfortable here with them and now you're threatening to scorn them.

            Thorin speaks up first as his tongue is the first to remember how to form words. “Please don’t.” His facial expression tells you that you must have hit a nerve because it’s slightly crumpled in concern, his mouth parted and the corners turned down. “Please,” he whispers. _‘He says please so freely. I’ve never heard him say it anywhere else’_ you realize with a start.

            “Lass, we wanted you here because,” Dwalin sighs heavily and pauses for a moment, “because we enjoy spending time with you and we want to know you better.” Now it’s your turn to have your mouth hang open like a fool. _‘Oh’_ you think in shock. _‘That’s a surprise.’_

            “Oh,” you say dumbly. “What? You do?” you ask again and they nod their heads in tandem. The crackling of the fire fills the room along with the silence that weaves between the gaps. You can tell they’re both nervous, but so are you with their attention focused solely on you.

            “Aye, we do. We-,” Dwalin breaks off as he looks back at his friend for help and then turns back to you with a confused face. “I’m not that good with words lass but you’re the finest, most charming woman I’ve seen in a long while and I-,” he breaks again and this time looks down at his feet for a moment, wringing his hands. The gesture and the silence raises you to your feet to sit next to him and carefully grasp his large hands in your own smaller ones. The tanned, inked skin of his hands are quite the contrast against your own beat up bakers hands and he looks up from his shyness to look into your eyes. “I think that you’re quite the lass,” he tells you quietly as if it were a long kept secret that's never been spoken aloud.

            You can hear Thorin shift in his seat. “I feel the same way toward you Y/N,” Thorin voices from the side and your eyes widen. Your breathing picks up and you’d guess that’s it’s like second-hand nerves from the two warriors. _‘I thought warriors were never scared’_ you wonder but guess there must be a first for everything.

            “But I-I-I can’t choose-,” you start to say, looking between the two frantically, but Dwalin squeezes your hands lightly in his.

            “What we’re doing a right poor job of sayin’ is that we don’t want you to,” he explains to you tenderly. His eyes are as gentle as his grip on your hands, reminding you of how gently someone would hold a thin sculpture of glass or a baby bird.

            “We wouldn’t want you to,” Thorin adds in. You turn to look at him and his eyes are just as sincere. “We are doing a poor job of this,” he mutters with a look down for a moment before taking a deep breath. “We want to court you. The both of us. If you’ll have us of course.” Your mind is blank. The white noise piles over everything else as his words sink in even further until another squeeze to your hands brings you back to reality. “I understand if you’re overwhelmed by this-,” Thorin starts but you shake your head.

            “No,” you say to his question but watch as his face falls instantly at what must be the miscommunication of your answer. “Well yes!” you amend quickly, “I am a little overwhelmed but I. . . I like it. I like the idea. Yes,” you answer, biting your lower lip between your teeth as you blush and smile all at the same time. It’s a whirlwind of emotions that swallow you up as you watch both of their faces light up like this is their first time courting someone. Both men smile hugely at your answer and Dwalin is the first to pull you into a large, warm hug before placing his forehead gently against yours. As soon as you’re released from his grasp Thorin sweeps you up and presses his forehead to yours as well and places his hand on the back of your neck.

            “I was worried for a moment there but you’ve simply made my day brighter than the sun,” Dwalin relaxes through a dopey smile and you smile back only to yawn hugely. You open your mouth to apologize when Thorin dismisses it completely with a wave of his hand and a chuckle.

  
            “We’ve kept you too long then,” he assumes and you try to protest but he chuckles again at you getting worked up. “We don’t have to rush this. We have so much time to get to know one another better.” He looks at you with understanding and you nod your head reluctantly because you want to spend more time with them right now and not wait.

            “What do you think others will say though? It will be different,” you worry but Dwalin cups your cheek carefully, running his thumb across your cheekbone and looking into your eyes.

            “Don’t you worry about what anyone else thinks of us. This is between the three of us,” he murmurs. His brown eyes are soft as they look into yours.

            “They would only be jealous anyways,” Thorin adds behind you, kissing the crown of your head for a moment while Dwalin holds you close. You yawn again and they crack toothy grins at your state.

            “Yeah, it’s been a tiring day,” you tell them and you receive a warm and heavy hand on your back as another one finds its way back to your own.

            “Why don’t you go back home and sleep. We can see you in the morning,” Dwalin chuckles. You turn your head to mock glare at him as if he had said something scandalous.

            “It’s like you both think you’ll know right where to find me, hm?” you joke and both of them release small laughs. The sound and attention makes your heart soar even higher than before making you relax into them.

            “I don’t think that we could ever stay away,” Thorin says quietly. He places the back of your hand against his lips and gives it a small but tender kiss before pulling you off of the couch. You say your goodbyes and then head out of the large doors back down to your home, all the while thinking of your two dwarves and how truly lucky you must be.


End file.
